For the Love of the Saints
by BDSLover88
Summary: Connor and Murphy McManus are on a mission from God to wipe out all that they see as evil. During one of their divine missions the brothers discover a young woman who had been kidnapped, and choose to help her in her crisis. Lang/Sexual Content/Violence
1. Chapter 1

_This is my first ever fanfic, so bear with me lol. I appreciate any R&R's, as long as they are not meant spitefully. Also, sorry for my attempt at the Irish brogue, I know it's probably horrible. And I do not own the characters of Murphy,Connor, or Smecker; but Sorka and any other characters not from Boondock Saints are of my original creation.  
_

**Chapter One**

Hands bleeding, Sorka Collins raced down the hallway of the hotel. In her rush to get away, she didn't really feel any pain from the cuts on her hands, just a slight stinging. She looked back fearfully down the corridor as she turned the corner, checking for signs of being pursued. She paused, trying to catch her breath, and then turned to try find the elevator that would take her to the ground floor – and security. As she turned she caught a glimpse of a large man clad in black; she opened her mouth to scream …and then everything faded to black…

* * *

"Hurry the fuck up Murph, we gotta get goin'," Connor cursed at his brother. "Quit bein' such a damn pansy!"

"Ya, we'll see how fast ye move whenever your ribs get all busted up. I might even give ye the pleasure of a cracked rib meself, how 'bout that?" Murphy grimaced as he pulled his faded black t-shirt over his head.

"It's not my fault that ye tried to stop a moving car with yer body ye idjit, now is it? Ye should've just gotten outta the way when ye seen that it was bullet proof! And the doc said the rib was just bruised, not cracked ye baby."

"Aye, in hindsight that seems like a good idea, but at least it got those fuckers outta that damned SUV didn't it! Now quit fussin' at me and get a move on, I'm the one waitin on ye now."

Both men grabbed their rosaries off of the nails beside the door, tucking them into their shirts to keep them safe after pulling the beads over their heads. After locking the door, they made their way out of the ran-down motel, heading to the local Catholic Church. The brothers entered the church together and, kneeling in the back pew, began their prayers. Once finished, the brothers walked simultaneously up to the statue of Jesus on the Cross, reverently kissing his feet. After taking their turns in confession, Connor and Murphy left the church, lighting up a cigarette after they were out the doors.

After working their shift at the meat packing plant, the brothers returned to their motel room to get cleaned up for the night. The guns that were going to be brought were tore down and rechecked, even though they had been cleaned after the last mission. Each brother pulled on a dark turtleneck and gloves to hide their identifying tattoos; then slipped the double holster harnesses over their shoulders. The suppressed Berettas were secured in the holsters, and then covered with a black pea coat. The McManus brothers again secured their rosaries, and headed out the door after each grabbing a duffel bag containing the rest of the ammo and munitions needed that night.

"Have ye heard anything more from Da 'bout when he's gonna be back?" Murphy asked his twin as they paused to light a cigarette.

"Nah, he just said he was checkin' out a lead 'bout a possible meeting of the new syndicate heads and would be back in a few days."

Murphy nodded at this, and the twins set off down the sidewalks into the chilly Boston evening. When they had walked a few blocks away from the motel they were staying at, they hailed a cab, which dropped them off in a suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of town. They had purposely had the cab drop them off a few blocks away from their target, for the same reason they had waited until they were away from the motel before they had grabbed the cab. Connor and Murphy made their way through the quiet neighborhood, as most of the houses were still under construction, ducking behind a pile of lumber in front of the partially built house next to the one that was the target. Now that the action was about to start, they opened up the duffels, strapping an extra pistol to their legs. Connor smirked as Murphy secured a large serrated bowie knife to his opposite leg.

"Aw, your just jealous 'cus ye didn't get to bring yer fuckin' rope along," Murphy said as he noticed the smirk.

"Well, I've got me a new toy to play with now don't I?" Connor retorted as pulled a small canister out of his duffel. "You ready, my brother?"

Murphy nodded, and the two men strode to the front of the house they came all this way for. Unnoticed as yet by the men inside, Connor pulled the pin on the canister in his hand, and launched it as hard as he could through the front window of the house.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

After carefully looking away as the flash bang went off in the house, Connor took off at a run, kicking the front door in. Taking in the men stumbling around the front room – two on the left, three on the right – Connor and Murphy stepped inside and began firing. It was quick work since the mafia soldiers had been blinded by the flash. After dispatching the last of the men, the brothers paused listening in silence, trying to pick up sounds of others in the house. There was an odd thumping noise coming from the back of the house, so the twins began working their way through the rooms of the house, carefully checking each room before moving on to the next. They checked the last room of the house, the kitchen, and noticed that the sound was coming from the large walk-in pantry. The men lined up against the wall on each side of the door. On Connor's nod, Murphy reached across the door from his position and yanked quickly on the knob. Connor pivoted into the doorway, and then almost dropped his gun in shock.

"Jesus fuckin Christ!" Connor exhaled.

"Lord's fuckin name, Con," Murphy reprimanded with a swat to the back of his brothers head. "What's…." he trailed off as he noticed what was in the pantry.

There, smack dab in the middle of the pantry, was what looked to be a young woman, bound to a sturdy wooden chair. From the looks of things, and the dents in the wood, she had managed to get one leg free, and had been trying in vain effort to kick away the leg of the chair her other foot was pinned to. Her white t-shirt and dark washed jeans were splattered with blood, but otherwise intact. With her head bowed, her long light brown hair obscured her face from the brothers, until she tossed her head back to get a look at them. Both brothers crossed themselves at the sight of her bloodied features. Now visible to them was a gash crossing through the hairline of her temple and most likely responsible for all the blood covering her. What looked to be a dirty rag had been used to gag her, but its placement didn't hide the freshly split lower lip. Her right eye was almost completely swollen shut, and the left one stared at them mockingly, the icy blue seeming to promise violence if she got free from her bindings.

_She must be a very strong woman to still possess that amount of spirit after everything that must have been done to her. _Murphy thought as he exchanged a glance with his brother. As one they both reached up and pulled off their ski masks, hoping to put her at ease. Murphy holstered his gun, sliding his knife out of its sheath while his brother guarded their backs in case any of the dead men's associates decided to show up. The woman stiffened at the sight of the blade, but relaxed when Murphy leaned down to slice the ropes binding her remaining leg to the chair.

"Everythin's gonna be alrigh' lass. We're gonna get you outta here and to the hospital. Yer safe now," Murphy assured the woman as he moved behind her to slice the ropes tying her arms behind the chair, and the knot at the back of the gag.

"No, no hospitals," she refused, bringing her hands in front of her trying to massage some feeling back into her wrists.

"Look, ye've obviously been through somethin awful, and ye really need to have a doc look at ye." Connor chided.

The woman emphatically shook her head, grimacing afterwards. "No! They have people watching the hospitals. They said that if I ever escaped they'd find me and kill me and my sister! They have eyes everywhere! I can't be seen!"

"Alrigh' whatever, let's just get goin' before more men show up," Connor conceded. "Murph, come on let's get this over with."

Connor and Murphy moved back to the living room, Murphy pulling a handful of pennies out of his pocket and passing some to his twin. They went from mobster to mobster, placing a coin over each of their eyes and repositioning the bodies so that they lay with arms crossed. They also stripped the bodies of anything valuable, including wallets, weapons, electronics, and jewelry. These things were placed in the duffels that Connor had brought inside while Murphy was finishing up with his side of the room. Finished, they turned to beckon the woman to follow them outside, noting approvingly that she had found a hoodie somewhere to help cover her face. With an arm slung over each of their shoulders, she was half carried in silence to the outskirts of the neighborhood, where Connor used a pay phone to call a cab. When the cab arrived the woman slumped in exhaustion in the back seat between the brothers, but still careful in keeping the hood pulled low on her face to hide most of the damage done. Connor paid the cabbie well for his silence during the trip as he dropped them off at a spot a few blocks away from their motel building. Using alleys and back streets the three made their way to the motel without drawing attention.

After they were safely inside, Murphy picked the woman up bridal style and carried her over to one of the beds, setting her gently down on top of the covers.

"We're gonna haffta get ye cleaned up so that we can see how bad the damage is lass," Murphy murmured as he smoothed her hair out of her face.

"Sorka," she murmured as she fought of the crushing wave of fatigue that was pulling her into sleep. "My name is Sorka."

"That's a pretty name, Sorka. Why don't ye just take a nap while we get everythin' ready to clean ye up?" Murphy said while focusing on pulling off her sneakers. Looking up he noticed she had already fallen asleep, so he quietly crept out of the room, shutting the door as he left.


	3. Chapter 3

_Here's the new chapter, I'll try to update every couple of days or so. I also edited the first two chapters as well, but nothing major. Please review!_

**Chapter Three**

Murphy walked over to his brother, snatching the lit cigarette out of his hand and taking a drag. Connor took this in stride, grabbing another out of the pack and lighting it. They stood in silence for a few moments, scanning their surroundings every few moments by habit.

"So, ye think we should let her sleep or should we start bandagin' her up now?" Murphy asked his brother while watching a couple walk across the parking lot.

"Let her sleep, nothin' looked life-threatenin' from what I could see. She could probly use the rest more than anytin' at the moment."

"They really did a number on her didn't they? I wonder why they had her."

"No tellin' what motivates evil men, she could be a hostage or just someone they grabbed off the street fer some fun. She's the only one who can tell us fer sure," Connor said, glancing back out the door to their room.

* * *

_Sorka looked in the mirror as she brushed out her dark brown hair, thinking of what she wanted to do tomorrow. The year she'd taken off from teaching had been fun, with trips to the Carribean, Italy, France, and several other places she'd always wanted to visit. She had decided to spend the last few weeks of her vacation in Boston, staying at a nice hotel where she wouldn't have to cook or clean, and generally pretending to be a tourist in the city she had lived in for the past five years. She studied her face in the mirror, seeing the familiar ice blue eyes, the small, slightly upturned nose, the lips that always had a bit of a smirk to them. It was while looking at her eyebrows that she decided._

_ "I do believe that tomorrow will be a spa day," she told her reflection, setting down her brush. She looked down at the vanity to grab a scrunchie, using it to pull her hair back into a high ponytail. She stood up to walk over to the dresser, and paused as she heard footsteps heading towards her door. Curious as to who would be visiting her at this time of night she looked through the peephole to see who it was. She gasped as she saw a tall man walking towards her door, a pistol equipped with a silencer gripped in his hand. She swung her back into the wall next to the door, eyes frantically searching for help that wasn't there. Trying to fight back the fear that threatened to paralyze her, she grabbed a heavy crystal bowl from the small desk next to the door and waited. _

_ She waited in silence when the strange man knocked on the door, praying that he would decide she wasn't there and leave. Her eyes widened as she heard, not another knock, but the beep of the card reader outside in the hallway. She raised the bowl over her head as she watched the doorknob turning in slow motion, the gun barrel coming into view as the door opened. She waited, biting her lip to keep from sobbing from fright, knowing this could be her only chance. As the man's head appeared she slammed the bowl down, the shards slicing open her palms as it shattered over his skull. She leaped over his slumped body, tearing down the hallway, crying for…_

"HELP!" she screamed, sitting up as she woke from her dream. Eyes blinking, she looked around the shabby motel room, trying to remember why she was here. Just as she began remembering everything, the slam of the door hitting the wall startled her into falling off the side of the narrow bed.

"Sorka? Sorka, what's wrong?" A tall, dark haired man asked, rushing over to where she had fallen between the bed and wall. She lay there crying at everything that had happened to her the night before, over the sudden turn in events. The dark haired man bent over, scooping her up in his arms, and sitting with her cradled in his lap.

"Murph, is she ok?" Another man, she could barely make out that he had lighter colored hair through her tears, asked as he knelt on the floor beside them.

"Aye, I think the adrenaline has wore off now. She'll be fine in a moment. Why don't ye grab some rags so we can clean her up a bit?"

Sorka buried her face into the man's shoulder, attempting to hold in the wracking sobs shaking her body. He rocked her back and forth, rubbing her back with one hand, whispering that everything was going to be fine. His thick Irish brogue soothed her, and after what felt like hours she was finally able to calm herself down enough to pull away from him. He reached out and gently wiped away her tears, fingertips feather-light against her swollen eye.

"Who – who are you?" she sniffed, fighting to keep her emotions in check.

"My name is Murphy, and this is my halfwit of a brother Connor," Murphy said with a smirk, gesturing to the light haired man coming through the doorway of the motel room, clutching a pail of ice.

"Good evenin' to ye lass," Connor said with a bow, followed by a chunk of ice flying through the air at Murphy. Murphy chuckled as the ice missed him, standing up to grab one of the rags that had been stacked on the table. Wetting it in the sink, he brought it over to her and gingerly began to dab at the blood covering her face. Connor brought her some ice wrapped in a rag, letting her hold it to her eye to bring the swelling down. The brothers worked in silence, giving her time to collect her thoughts. Murphy cleaned up the gash on her head, glad to note that it wouldn't need any stitches. He grabbed some super glue out of the first aid kit that his twin had set on the bed, squeezing some into the cut and pressing the edges together with his fingers until it dried. Connor was cleaning out the cuts on her hands, pulling small pieces of glass out of the wounds of one hand while she held the ice in place with the other. He applied some antibiotic to the cuts when they were clean, then wrapped her palms with gauze.

Sorka's eyes teared up again, not from what had happened to her, but from the tender care she was receiving from the men who had saved her. She cleared her throat, trying to move the knot that was blocking it. She readjusted the ice pack as the men stood and leaned against the wall, Connor passing Murphy a cigarette. Connor took a drag on his own cigarette, and then slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"Alright lass, me and my brother need to know what exactly is goin' on here. Why was the Russian mafia holdin ye hostage? Connor asked, pointing the fingers holding his cigarette at her.

"They were using me as leverage against my father. They promised as long as he fed them information I would remain alive. If I was to escape, or if my father tried to rescue me, I would be killed, and my little sister found and killed as well," Sorka told them, pulling the ice pack away and staring down at her feet. "Those bastards would taunt me with what they planned to do to my sister. How can anyone even talk about doing such horrible things to a child?"

Connor walked over to the woman who was cradling her head in her hands. He rubbed her shoulders, using a hand to tilt her face up, gently forcing her to look at him "They were evil men Sorka, and now they are dead men. They won't be able to do anythin' to ye or yer sister anymore."

"But what about the others? You can't tell me that they were the only part of the Russian mafia that was a part of this. What's to stop new men being sent after my sister once they find out that I'm gone?"

"Leave that part to us. We will take care of it, and by the time they know ye've been freed it will be too late. Whoever ordered this will atone for his sins, I assure ye," Murphy chimed in from his position against the wall. She stared at the brothers for a moment, seeking the truth in their eyes, wanting to be sure that she could trust them with something as precious as her little sister's innocence and life. Whatever she saw must have assured her, because she nodded.

"Alright, I'll let you two take care of it. Now that you know the basics do you mind if I take a shower and get the rest of the blood out of my hair?" she asked while she raised her hand to her hair, then pulled it away when it encountered the matted mess with a grimace.

"Sure go on ahead," Connor laughed. "We'll bring ye somethin' clean to wear."

Sorka gratefully headed to the shower, looking forward to cleaning herself, hoping the hot spray of water would also ease the memories of her capture from her mind.

"Sorka, one more thing…who exactly is your father that the Russian mob would need his help?"

Sorka poked her head back out the doorway, and answered Murphy's question.

"Special Agent Patrick Collins of the FBI, head of Organized Crime Investigations."


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok, this is a short one, but I mainly wanted to put something up so yall'd know I was still alive lol. Life's been crazy with finals, pregnancy, and a funeral so I haven't been able to get much more done. Chapter five is about halfway through, so shouldn't be too much longer before that's out. As always please review, and thanks to all those that have done so!**

Chapter Four

Sorka sighed as the hot spray of water moved through her hair, feeling like fingers massaging her scalp. She reached over to grab the shampoo bottle, squeezing out a handful and rubbing the gel into her hair. While scrubbing the back of her head she glanced down at the floor of the tub, noticing that the water running out of her hair was a pink color from all the blood that had dried in it. She rinsed all the suds out of her hair, trying to finger-comb the tangles out while cursing man's lack of need for conditioner. _I'm gonna have to finger-comb this whole mess, lord knows if either of them has a brush or comb_, she thought with a grimace as she encountered a particularly nasty knot. She continued cleaning her body with soap, wincing at the stinging that accompanied the soap getting into the cuts on her hands. She hadn't really thought about the cuts on her hands when she decided to take the shower; just absentmindedly taken off the bandages before she stepped under the spray of water. Deeming herself clean, Sorka turned off the shower, and grabbed for the towel she had hanging outside the curtain. Without the sound of the shower to muffle the noise, she could hear the two men talking in the other room. She wrapped up her hair in the towel and then sat on the lidded toilet to eavesdrop, hoping to catch something she wasn't meant to hear.

* * *

"Aye, tha's the address, there were five men when we got there, all in the front room," Connor said into the telephone receiver at his ear.

"Alrigh', we'll keep her with us until this is taken care of. Should we let the father know?" Connor took a puff on his cigarette, tapping the ashes into the nearby ashtray. "Okay Smecker, thanks for the help."

"So wha's the plan?" Murphy asked as his brother hung up the phone.

"Well, we wait for one of those beepers we grabbed to light up, and then bluff our asses off. Hopefully whoever calls ain't too smart and we can pretend the girl was moved or sometin. Smecker's gonna dig around and see if he can find out who ordered the kidnapping."

Both brothers looked up as they heard the bathroom door opening, Sorka stepping out dressed in one of their t-shirts and a pair of boxers. Murphy got up from where he was sitting at the table to help rewrap her hands, which she was trying to do by herself. Once they were wrapped again, Sorka sat down on the edge of the closest bed and began trying to finger-comb out the mess of her hair. They all sat in silence for a few minutes, until Sorka gave up on her hair.

"So…what are we going to do?" she asked.

"I talked to Special Agent Smecker, and he's going to clean up the house so as it won't look like anythin' went wrong. Then we'll wait for one of the beepers to go off, and pretend that you've been moved to a different hideout." Connor informed her, making his way to the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

"No offense, but that plan seems kind of wishy-washy to me. What if they don't believe you?"

"Hopefully it will work long enough for us to find out who is behind all this. If it doesn't, then we'll get hold of yer da and tell him to get yer sister under protection," Murphy said as he grabbed a beer out of the tiny fridge. He offered her one, but she shook her head no, so he placed it on the table for his brother, who was coming out of the bathroom.

"Why don't we just call my father now and let him know everything?"

"Smecker thinks that if yer father finds out before he has to tha' yer free he might tip off the Russians somehow." Connor sat at the table, popping the top of his beer and taking a swig.

"Oh, ok. That makes sense I guess. Well, if there's nothing else to do tonight I think I'm gonna get some sleep."

Sorka slid between the sheets of the bed furthest away from the door, clicking off the lamb by the side of the bed. Connor and Murphy finished their beers and climbed into the other bed, having a brief tussle over the blankets. Connor won, taking the bottom sheet while Murphy ended up with the scratchy comforter as his only blanket.

"Guys…thanks for finding me," Sorka said sleepily as her eyes closed for the night.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Ok guys, here's the next two chapters since it's been so long since I have updated. Morning sickness is not a great muse, and it has been difficult getting these out. I would love reviews on what yall think so far!**_

Chapter Five

_Fuckin' mornin', for once I'd like to sleep in till twelve or so._ Murphy inwardly cursed whatever inner timer they had that woke them up just after seven every morning. Him and Connor had been that way their whole lives, only getting to sleep in whenever they were really sick – or really blitzed. Murphy sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbing his left hand while wincing at the pain it caused him. A lot of the bones had been broken that night, and two months later it still killed him to grip a gun in that hand. The doctor hadn't wanted him to use it at all, but in their line of business you had to grit your teeth through the pain to survive.

Connor made his way to the bathroom, turning away from the pain he had caused his brother. He understood that it was necessary at the time, but it was hard to get over having to intentionally hurt someone that you loved. The woman was starting to stir as he walked past, no doubt having been awakened by Murphy's grumblings. He cleaned himself up in the bathroom, changing into some fresher clothes before he vacated the bathroom for Sorka who was waiting outside the door. Connor went over to the small table and sat in the chair opposite his brother, pulling a cigarette out of a pack on the table. Murphy rubbed at his eyes trying to clear them, then grabbed his bag and headed to the bathroom after Sorka had finished.

"So do you boys got anything to eat around here or do yall just live on beer and cigarettes?" Sorka smirked as she sat down on the edge of her bed.

Connor grinned, "How do ye think we keep our girlish figures lass?"

Sorka laughed at that, and then pressed a hand to her stomach as it rumbled. "Well, while I admire you and your brother's figures, I have no qualms about adding a few pounds to mine."

"Now what is this I hear? Someone's been admiring our figures?" Murphy wiggled his eyebrows as he exited the bathroom.

"Don't let your head swell up too much stud; this room is small enough as is. So how 'bout it, can we grab some pancakes or something?"

"Sure, jus' write down what ye want and one of us will go pick it up. People will ask too many questions if they see ye with yer face all beat up like tha'," Connor tossed her a pad and a pen to write down her order.

"Yay me, confined to a hotel room until I don't look like the walking dead."

"At least ye won't be hurting for company now will ye?" Murphy winked.

Sorka snorted, "Uh-huh, well there you go, four pancakes smothered in butter and syrup and a large cup of hot chocolate."

"Wait a sec – hot chocolate?"

"Yeah what about it? Can't a grown woman enjoy a cup of hot chocolate every now and then?"

"Alrigh', alrigh'," Connor raised his hands in truce. "Well ye heard the lasses order Murph, get movin'."

"I do believe I am jus' fine where I am Con. I'd like eggs and bacon for meself, and some black coffee," Murphy said as he stretched out on their bed and reached for the remote.

"Well tha's nice to hear Murph, why don't ye walk on down to the diner and repeat it to the waitress?"

Sorka watched in amusement as neither brother showed signs of leaving – Murphy stretched out on the bed flipping through channels on the tv, and Connor slouched in a chair at the table lazily smoking his cigarette.

Murphy: "Come on now, the younger brother's job is to listen to the oldest, and we both know who the older brother is."

Connor: "I told ye I had ice on mine ye idgit!"

Murphy: "Sure whatever ye have to tell yerself."

Sorka: "Wait – you two don't know who the oldest brother is?"

Connor: "Sure we do, our dear mum told us a few months ago who it was."

Sorka: "Well, if you know then why do you argue over it? And how does ice affect whose the oldest?"

Murphy snickered, "'Cus she said the oldest brother was the one with the biggest cock."

Sorka blinked a couple of times, looked from one brother to the other, and then burst out laughing, "She…said…the one…with the biggest…HAHAHAHAHA!"

"Ye know Murph, we could settle this right now once and for all, we do have an impartial witness."

"Oh no! Yall are not dragging me into this contest. Either of you even make a move to unzip those flies and you won't have a dick left to argue over!"

Connor winced and cupped himself in protection, "Yer a bloodthirsty woman ye know that Sorka? Well, me brother, I will leave ye in her loving hands and get the food."

Connor got up from the table, dodging the pillow aimed at him by Sorka and stowing a pistol in the back of his jeans before walking out the door and locking it behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

_Two weeks later…_

Sorka stared dreamily at the McManus twins as they prepared to go out on another mission. She hoped that they didn't know they played the main roles in her fantasies now, but secretly she was curious how they would respond to the knowledge. She sighed, turning her attention to the news broadcast she had been watching in an effort to inject some reality into her brain. The anchors were discussing the upcoming trial of Papa John Yakavetti, head of the Italian mafia. From the brothers' recounting, she knew that this was the man who had killed their friend Rocco and had unknowingly hired their father to kill them. She had met Noah the week before and found him to be a nice man, but she sometimes resented him for taking away the time she had with the boys. Ever since he had reappeared the brothers had spent most of their time in his company tracking down leads on who had ordered her kidnapping. Connor and Murphy had quit their jobs at the plant a few days before that, when Italian enforcers had tried to corner them there. It had subsequently led to a change of motels, but on the upside the new room was a shade nicer than the old one.

As suspected, the order had come down from the new head of the local Russian syndicate, who was turning out to be a hard man to track down. The underlings only ever referred to him as "Boss," and the only description they had to go on so far was that the man was not Russian at all, but in fact American. The anticipated page from the Russians after her rescue had come and gone, with Connor pretending to be one of the enforcers that was holding her. They had bought the bluff, accepting that she had been moved to another location after that one was "compromised." They hadn't heard from them since them, which worried her, but Smecker had assured them that no move had been made on her sister yet. He had gone ahead and informed her father of their plans in an effort to place the young girl under better protection.

"Alrigh' boys, time to get movin'," Noah urged as he strapped the last of his guns onto his vest.

"Are you sure that "Boss" will be there tonight?" Sorka asked, anxious for the threat to be taken care of.

"Aye, he'll have no choice but to attend a meeting this big. This is when he will formally take over, and most men find it hard to follow someone they have never seen. Boys, I'll be waiting in the car, make it quick."

After the door had closed and they had their guns ready and strapped in, the brothers approached Sorka.

"You guys better be careful out there, don't be getting killed on my account. I found out yall did something stupid I'll come kill you myself."

"We'll be fine Sorka, nothin' to worry that pretty little head bout'," Connor reassured.

Sorka embraced each of them, giving them a kiss on the cheek before they headed out the door.

* * *

An hour later the brothers and Il Duce were crouched behind some crates outside of a warehouse by the docks. They had watched everyone else arrive at the warehouse for the meeting, and were now waiting for "Boss" to arrive. The plan was to ambush the man before he made it into the warehouse, and then get the hell out of there. The warehouse was full of at least thirty armed men, and the McManus' had no desire to tangle with that many guns.

"Here he comes," Noah whispered as a darkened sedan pulled up. "Get ready."

Connor and Murphy pulled out their guns, waiting for their father's signal. Noah watched silently as the driver stepped out and opened the back door of the car. A body guard stepped out first, followed by a short blond man.

"Now!"

They all rose up behind the cover of the crates, firing at the men that were a few yards away. It was such an unexpected attack that the now dead men had no chance to fire back, and the silencers on the McManus's pistols hid their presence from the Russians inside the warehouse. Once they were all down Connor ran quickly over to the sedan, checking for any signs of life and performing the penny routine. When he finished he ran back to Noah and Murphy, and then all three made their way down the docks to where they had hid their car.

"I wish it was always this easy to take out the bad guys," Murphy said as Connor started the car.

"Aye, but sometin' 'bout this just doesn't feel right. Almost like 'twas too easy."

"Nothin' we can do 'bout it now Connor. Let's just get back to the motel and let Smecker know what happened," Noah said from the back seat.

* * *

It took another half hour to get back to the motel rooms, as Connor decided to drive around for a while to make sure they hadn't been followed. After they parked the car in the lot Connor and Murphy said good night to their father, who had a room at the other end of the motel from theirs. The boys headed up the steps to their door, looking forward to some sleep.

"Looks like Sorka decided to call it a night," Murphy said when he couldn't see any lights through the curtains of the room.

Connor nodded in agreement, trying to unlock the door quietly in case she was asleep. The brothers stepped inside the dark room, toeing off their shoes and hanging their rosaries after the door was shut. The men stripped out of their gear and clothes, and prepared to sleep for the night.

"Connor…"

Connor paused on his way to the bed, turning to where Sorka slept expecting her to sit up.

"Oh...Connor…" Sorka sighed in her sleep.

Connor slugged Murphy in the arm, wearing a smug grin on his face from the fact that Sorka was dreaming about him.

"Yes…Murphy…oh…don't stop…"

The brothers' eyes widened in shock at the realization that this woman was having a naughty dream not about one, but both of them.


	7. Update Sorry not a new chapter!

Hey guys, thanks for the reviews! Sorry it's been so long since I've updated, I've been caught up with school and pregnancy. Hopefully things will cool off soon and I will have time to add some new chapters. Thanks again for the reviews!


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